


Falling, Falling

by Aurae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Backstory, Exchange Assignment, Force Ghost Qui-Gon Jinn, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Prime Time 2019, Pre-Star Wars: Attack of the Clones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19409074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurae/pseuds/Aurae
Summary: Dooku blames the Jedi Order for Qui-Gon’s death. This is the beginning of his fall to the dark side.





	Falling, Falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/gifts).



“You killed him.”

“Untrue, that is. Know full well, Dooku, you do.”

Mace Windu’s arms were folded respectfully over his chest, and his expression was placid. Nonetheless, there was a subtle tightening, a focus of intent, in the Force. “Neither myself, nor Master Yoda, nor any other Jedi killed Master Qui-Gon Jinn,” he said. “ _A Sith Lord_ did that.”

Dooku pretended to ignore Windu. He’d only come to Naboo after its liberation from Trade Federation blockade to register his extreme displeasure with the Grand Master of the Order in person. This, and no other, was his purpose. As such, he kept his gazed fixed firmly upon Yoda. “A Sith may have struck the death blow, that is true, but it is through _your_ inattention, _your_ complacency, that the Sith have been able to survive!”

“These recriminations, no place do they have!” Yoda rapped his gimer stick against the polished marble floor of Theed Palace for added emphasis. “In vain, Qui-Gon’s death was not. Today, mourn we do. Time enough tomorrow, there will be, after the pyre ceremony, to discover the truth.”

“How unfortunate it is, then, that not all of us can expect to live for seven hundred years,” Dooku said coldly. “Qui-Gon is already gone, his energies returned to the Force. He does not care whether or not I attend his pyre ceremony.”

Yoda’s pointy ears drooped, the perfect picture of a Jedi Master’s disappointment in his former apprentice. “Not for the dead, a funeral is, but for the living,” he said.

“Alas, the living have other errands to attend.”

***

A place somewhere, years ago, a whole lifetime ago. Dooku did not remember where.

The place did not matter.

Dooku did, on occasion, step back to marvel at how much his former Padawan learner had grown over the years. Where once he had been a quiet, diffident youngling, small, almost frail, he was now appointed to Jedi Mastership himself, and he’d become more confident and comfortable in his eccentricities.

He’d also grown nearly as tall as Dooku. And so, Dooku looked Qui-Gon straight in the eye in order to chastise him. “Your weakness is your compassion, dear Qui-Gon. One day, it will be your downfall.”

“Empathic love for all life is the foundational principle upon which the Jedi Order was founded, Master,” Qui-Gon replied thoughtfully, his dissent gentle but firm. “How are we to learn to cherish all life if we cannot bond first with that life which is in our immediate proximity? Through the specific, the individual, we learn to generalize the whole.”

“This may well be true,” Dooku conceded, “but you have been known to miss the forest for the trees.”

Qui-Gon tilted his head, acknowledging the hit, then waved his hand dismissively. “Nonetheless, the principle stands. And relatedly, sometimes there is one tree with a position—whether by fate or by active cultivation—which is of singular importance to the whole of the galaxy itself. Are we always to deemphasize those special, _chosen_ individuals in favor of the collective, irrespective of circumstance?”

“Oh?” The point was well-taken, and he could not disagree, but Dooku, unready to admit defeat, could not resist changing the subject in order to regain the upper hand. “And who are _you_ to know which individuals are singularly important?”

Qui-Gon chuckled. He was not offended by this frontal assault on his personal limitations. “I’m still working on that.”

Ah, surrender at last.

“Ambitious in the pursuit of knowledge as always, I see. You do me proud,” Dooku said. There. Reconciliation after their battle of words. He laid his hand upon the back of Qui-Gon’s neck, behind the feathery fall of straight, carefully combed brown hair, and urged him forward, intending to press a tender kiss to his forehead.

Qui-Gon, though, had other ideas. He angled his face so that Dooku’s kiss landed directly upon his lips instead. The tip of his tongue caressed the inside of Dooku’s cheek; his teeth nipped tantalizingly at Dooku’s lower lip; and their chests pushed more closely together as the kiss deepened further and Qui-Gon’s arms slipped around Dooku’s waist. Dooku felt dizzy, like was falling. Only Qui-Gon kept him upright. “You are one of those important individuals. Of this, I am certain,” Qui-Gon murmured into Dooku’s mouth.

With not inconsiderable effort, Dooku steadied himself and gave it a count of three before pulling away from the embrace. This had been long in the coming, he realized, and he did so with no small amount of regret. “You flatter me, Qui-Gon, but you know this cannot be.”

“Yes, I know,” Qui-Gon replied, calm and resigned, “but I wanted _you_ to know it anyway: I love you.”

***

I love you, Qui-Gon had said. Dooku had never dared to say the same back to him. Now, it was too late—and it always and forever would be. He had regrets. So many regrets. All Dooku could do, as his fast, booted footsteps rang through the hallways of Theed Palace, was hear the words over and over and over again in his mind, echoing at nigh-deafening volume in the lonely space between his ears—

“Ouch!”

Dooku started, his hands rising reflexively to the shoulders of the being he’d so thoughtlessly walked right headlong into, his distraction turning him into one more Force-blind imbecile. “Forgive me, Supreme Chancellor. I was lost in thought.”

Sheev Palpatine straightened his ceremonial robes of office and shrugged wryly. “No harm done. I know you must grieve the death of your former, uhh, Padawan—is that the correct terminology? He was a great credit to the Order, and he will be sorely missed.”

Dooku raised his brows with surprise. “Qui-Gon was indeed my Padawan learner. This is not well known.”

“I make it my business to know these things, Master Jedi. Master Dooku, is it? Of the County Dooku of Serenno? Are you here on Naboo to attend Master Jinn’s pyre ceremony this evening?”

Hmm, Palpatine really did make it his business to know “these things.” It was…remarkable. “Alas, no. I have errands to run and must return to Coruscant forthwith.”

In truth, Dooku was planning to settle his affairs at the Temple and submit his resignation to the Order. He’d rather do that before the Council reconvened, to avoid inevitable awkward conversations with Yoda and the others. After that, he would be free to take direct action against the creeping, insidious forces of chaos which had taken dearly beloved Qui-Gon away from him—

“—be interested in a private meeting? I understand your concerns about the overall direction of travel. Rule of law is breaking down throughout the galaxy, and I would be interested in hearing alternative viewpoints.”

Dooku blinked. Somehow, he’d momentarily lost track of their conversation. Had he been voicing his thoughts aloud? He hadn’t been doing that…had he? “Umm, yes, certainly,” he said distractedly. Ugh, he really ought to be getting away from here. His judgment was being adversely affected, and he felt off-balance, off-kilter, lightheaded. Yes, he felt like he had gone into free fall…

“Excellent,” Palpatine said. “I shall be in touch.”

***

From the Netherworld of the Force, Qui-Gon Jinn watches with grief and yearning as Palpatine bids farewell to Dooku.

Farewell for now, that is. It will not be farewell forever, not between Dooku and Palpatine. No, not by a long shot. But for Qui-Gon, Dooku recedes ever further and further into the distance, into a war-torn galaxy where Qui-Gon cannot follow.

He’d been right about his former Master—Dooku is on course to alter galactic history itself.

If only Qui-Gon’s love had been enough to save him from falling.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to the exchange on June 29, 2019.


End file.
